


Well, you cured my January blues

by benevolent_bear



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sad GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Suggestive Themes, Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Love, Wait What?, fast burn, george smokes weed sometimes but hes 24, im sorry knee socks got me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 22:08:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 14,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28785453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/benevolent_bear/pseuds/benevolent_bear
Summary: George gets lost in his own mind, drowning in the weight of his own emotions. Follow as he falls dangerously, his heart teetering on the line.------“I heard that you fell in love.” Dream breathed down the line, throat tight.“I’m not in love with Wilbur.” George stated defensively.“Or near enough.” Dream continued.------12 chapters, each inspired by an Arctic Monkeys song off of their album AM.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), GeorgeNotFound/Wilbur Soot
Comments: 18
Kudos: 143





	1. There's all these secrets I can't keep

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter 1 is inspired by Fireside. Sometimes the references will be more or less poignant than this, depending on how well each song fits the narrative.

George had never been one for entertaining those late night fantasies. But each night he finds himself lost in these very dreams that float around in his mind as he lay in the sanctuary of his own bed. The cotton fibres offered a safe haven where he finally deemed it safe to let down his walls, inviting in those very thoughts he had tried so desperately to ignore. Shielded from the reality of his emotions by thick cotton bed sheets that conceal him and his aching heart. The safety of these covers allows him to confess to himself the things he never does otherwise. He tries his best to ignore it, the wave of nausea that floods in, the bile in his throat that threatens to spill at the acknowledgement that he’s not quite as straight as he lets on. Paintings of biscuit hued locks and freckled cheeks haunt his dreams. The image of him and Dream dancing by in the early morning and in the night time. 

George’s eyes stay fixated on his ceiling, knowing the moment they fall closed his mind will drift to bright grins and insatiable laughter. He attempts to ground himself by rubbing the fabric of his duvet cover between thumb and forefinger, the soft scratch of individual threads enough to soothe his racing heart and weighted stomach. 

His sleeping pattern was only getting worse and worse, these dreams stinging like nightmares, they’re enough to stop him from falling into a deep slumber. He instead dances the line of unconsciousness with about as much grace as he has when trying to verbalise emotions. 

The silence swallows with fervour and greed, consuming George until all that is left of him is the pit of anxiety feasting on his longing for the unobtainable. 

His phone rings from his bedside, vibrations breaking through the night time settings which alert him as to who is calling him before his eyes even grace the screen. George hesitates before answering the call, knowing Dream wouldn’t call him unless he really needed him. 

“Hello?” His voice is hoarse in the late night, or was it early morning? 

“Hey George, I’m sorry if I woke you up.” Dream sounded as if he had been crying, something he didn’t often do in front of other people, even his best friends of years. 

“You didn’t, even if you had it would have been fine.” George sat from his bed, eyes blinking tiredly at his blackened surroundings. “What’s up?” The palm of his hand digs into his eye socket, George thinking his ministrations will drag the grogginess of his brain away. 

“I didn’t say anything about it before but, umm, Megan and I split up four months ago.” Dream explained with a sniffle. His voice wavered as he spoke, showing to George just how torn up he was. 

“Oh.” George frowned. “What happened?” George moved from his bed, bare feet hitting carpeted flooring which he dragged across the room to exit, beginning a voyage to the kitchen. He crept quietly down his stairs, doing his best not to disturb his family. 

“I don’t really know, I thought I was hers forever but maybe I was mistaken.” Dream’s dejected tone shattered George’s heart into icy fragments. He stumbles, hand flying out to grip onto the railing so tightly his knuckles turn white. 

“Love never really is forever most of the time.” Is all George can offer. Dream had never really spoken to George about how much he cared for Megan, he wasn’t aware that it was that serious. 

“I know and I’m fine with that! I thought I was fine with that.” He starts loud but begins to trail off into a whisper, undoubtedly drowning in the weight of his emotions the same way George had been only moments ago. “It’s just there was this place that we used to go all the time and I went there today for the first time since we split. It looks the same but something about it’s changed.” George tries his best to wrap his head around Dream’s words, the clear hurt tangled between them. 

“Does it feel colder now?” George whispers as his cold feet hit the tiles of his kitchen floor. 

“I-, yeah.” Dream breathes. 

“You’ve been associating the place with her the whole time, it’s significance and warmth blurred with her significance to you. Now that she’s gone it won’t feel the same.” George’s tone is soft in a way that makes him feel as if he’s whispering to his lover in bed. 

“When did you get so wistful?” Dream’s tone is light for the first time that night, the sniffles that had plagued the background of their call ceasing at last. 

“I’ve been in love before, Dream.” George rolls his eyes, pulling a glass from his sink and filling it with water from his fridge. 

“Are you in love now?” Dream questions despite knowing of all of George’s previous relationships. 

“This isn’t about me.” Dream hums, accepting it as a response. 

A silence falls over them like a warm blanket, giving George time to sip some of his water, his back pressed to the sink. “Why are you up anyway?” Dream asks, breaking their brief serenity. 

“My brain has been busy lately, I can’t think straight.” George laughed internally at just how true that was. 

“You know you can talk to me about anything.” Dream offered, his voice soft and caring shooting tingles down his spine. 

The thought of confessing each complex emotion harboured in his oppressing mind stiffened his muscles, tension seeping into his bones. “I don’t think I’m ready to confess it out loud yet.” 

“Yet?” Comes Dream’s curious response. 

George nodded despite knowing Dream could not see it. “Yeah, maybe one day I’ll make up my mind.” He exhales, “Just not right now.” 

“As long as it’s not hurting you.” Dream resigns, not pushing his friend any further. George makes a noncommittal grunt, eyes transfixed on water droplets oozing down the side of his glass. 

“You should go to sleep.” Dream encourages, “it’s half four for you.” 

George turns to his kitchen clock to see Dream was right, he had spent most of the night lost in his own head. “I’ll try.” He hums, placing his glass down onto the counter top. 

“Thank you. And thank you for y’know, being wise for once.” Dream teased but George knew he meant his words, appreciating the way George had always dropped everything when he had needed it. 

George snorts. “I barely said anything, you just got distracted.” 

Dream gives a dry chuckle, George imagines him scratching the scruff of his chin. “I needed that. Goodnight Georgie.” He signs off, a smile clear in his tone. 

“Night, Clay.” Their call ends with a beep that sounds just as dejected as George feels by its conclusion. 

George treads back up to his room, exhaustion hitting him full force once his eyes fall upon his bed. Even with the need to sleep deep in his bones George can’t bring himself to close his eyes. He was terrified to dream of Dream, knowing what awaited him was a kind smile and arms longing to hold him just as much as he longed to be held by them. George hated how he dreamed of the unobtainable, it only made reality sting worse. 


	2. Love buckles under the strain of those wild nights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George wakes up the next morning, sadness aching in his bones.
> 
> ______
> 
> This chapter is based off of Mad Sounds. I am not its biggest fan I must confess.

The light flitted its way through the cracks of the blinds, a gentle glow cascaded elegantly across carpeted floors. George’s eyes fluttered open as the darkness was invaded by the intrusive light. His breaths were shallow and his eyes half lidded as he pulled his barely awake self from his cotton sheets to perch on his windowsill. His blinds were quickly cast aside as he situated herself, limbs seemingly tangled up in themselves in an attempt to squeeze onto the small space. He rubs sleep out of his eyes with balled up fists, aggressively swiping at the tender skin. His eyes fluttered back open, to witness the sun poke its head out from behind the city skyline. It was almost cruel for his sleep to be disturbed after only managing to procure a measly couple of hours before the January sun made her daily voyage across the sky. 

George’s mind still sat groggy from last night's contemplation, his suffering and the conversation with Dream. The American’s admission forefronted in his mind.  _ ‘I thought I was hers forever.’  _ The words uttered with such honesty that they fractured George’s heart just that bit more.

George wasn’t selfish, as much as he wished to be the one who Dream belonged to, the man’s happiness came first so seeing him so heartbroken did nothing to soothe George’s concern. 

Maybe his biggest mistake wasn’t falling in love with someone who could never love him back, perhaps it was the fact that he could never fall out of it. George’s time was spent pining for a man thousands of miles away who could never reciprocate what he feels. George had never been able to quash his desire to be held by Dream, no matter what he tried he couldn’t detach himself from the seeds of devotion which had been sewn into the pit of his stomach, growing into vines which squeezed tightly around his heart. 

The sun was achingly beautiful, a merry marriage of yellows and oranges intertwining with the shades of blue in the sky. George ached for he could never truly appreciate its beauty, his colour blindness a burden. 

It was barely even 8AM and George could already tell that the day was to be dreadful. His bones sat heavy in his body, the all too familiar pool of unmanageable sadness tugging him into its riptide again and again. He was broken from his stupor by his phone vibrating, he furrowed his eyebrows, staring blankly at his phone. For his friends it was 3 AM, none of them should be up at this time.

He clambers down from his windowsill, plucking the device up from his bedside table to see a notification from Sapnap. George opens the message and comes face to face with a Spotify link. He sends a series of question marks in response. 

**SapNap:** A playlist to get you out of your funk. I miss happy Gogy. Love you gn <3

George smiles at his friend's consideration, feeling fortunate to have someone like Sapnap. He clicks the link to a three hour long Spotify playlist titled ‘Gogy’s Mad Sounds.’ George snorts, pressing shuffle to begin his day. The first song that rolls on has a decent beat, promoting George to grab a towel and clothes before heading to the shower. 

George turns on the unit, stripping from his clothes as the water warms, steam already beginning to fill the small room. He turns his phone up loud before stepping under the stream, the sound of heavy bass echoing off shower walls. Scorching beads of water thunder down onto George’s shoulders and back, slowly punching out the tension which had manifested itself under the surface. He rested his head against the shower wall, taking his first breath of air from lightened lungs. 

With each song change George found himself more and more surprised by how much he was enjoying these songs. He felt as if they were slowly bringing him back to life. 

George spent most of his day doing relatively menial tasks, trying desperately not to overwhelm himself in his sleepless state. He cleaned his room, finally removing the extensive amount of boxes which littered his room.

Once early evening arrives George situates himself in front of his computer, eager to start a chill stream. He loads up his streaming software as well as twitch, pressing the start streaming button once he’s sure he’s ready. Making sure to change his settings so the playlist comes through on the stream. 

“Hello chat!” George greets as viewers begin to flood in. “Today’s just a chill stream! It probably won't even be used as a vod due to the music.” George opens up his minecraft, smiling at the support of his audience flooding by in chat. 

His first donation comes in before he has even loaded up the SMP. 

“Hey George, what’s with the music today?” He reads aloud, “Sapnap sent me a playlist this morning, I’ve been listening to it since about 8AM on loop.” He explains, smiling sheepishly.

George begins to work on his house on the SMP, interacting with chat and humming along to each song that comes on. 

As George responded to another donation discord notified him of someone joining his channel. 

“Good morning Gogy!” The sleepy voice of Sapnap greeted. 

“Did you just wake up?” George asked despite already anticipating what the answer would be. 

“Yeah, saw you were streaming.” Sapnap yawned loudly into his microphone. “Have you spoken to Dream yet?” As if in que discord notifies of another person's arrival. 

“You summoned him Sap.” George accused, fingers tapping to the beat of the music. 

“George!” Dream exclaimed excitedly. 

“You spoke to me like 12 hours ago.” George attempted to seem disinterested but the smile on his face at the sound of Dream’s voice undoubtedly gave him away. He glanced at his chat to see them spamming messages about how he lit up when his friends arrived. 

“Chat are all asking what this playlist is.” Sapnap smirked, George scoffed at how smug sapnap sounded. 

“I already told them you made it for me.” George groaned. 

“He made you a playlist?” Dream asked confusedly. The tone of Dream’s voice made George’s eyebrows furrow, it was foreign. 

“Yes I did! Gogy’s Mad Sounds.” He snickered. George knew there was a grin on his face. 

“That’s pretty gay.” Dream teased but it lacked the normal bite. 

“I just wanted to cheer up our sweet little gogy.” 

The chat was immediately filled with concerned messages asking after his well-being. 

“I’m fine, chat. Don’t worry.” He dismissed, jumping around in game across the pathways. 

The stream continued without a hitch, both Dream and Sapnap joined him in his mindless playing of the game, the three of them ending up gambling on the dispenser. 

Once the stream concludes the three stay in the call, chatting idly. 

“How are you feeling now George?” George hadn’t even told Sapnap that he was feeling down, the man's ability to read him after years of friendship was both a blessing and a curse. 

“I’m fine, the music helped.” George shrugged, not wanting to go into detail of his emotions. 

“That’s why I called it Mad Sounds. That song is about music that makes you feel good again.” Sapnap explained, clearly feeling proud of himself. 

“Yeah yeah, very clever Pandas.” Dream patronises jokingly. 

“Shut up Dream you’re just mad no one makes you playlists.” The two then launched into a light hearted argument, mockingly insulting each other. George smiles, sinking comfortably into his seat at the sound of their voices. His eyes fall closed, the tiredness behind his eyes finally catching up to him as he slowly nodded off in his chair. He couldn’t help but feel as if Dream and Sapnap were there with him, their voices sounding right like they’re in the room. George couldn’t help the picture of dream sitting cross legged on his bed, a dopey smile on his lips.

“George?” A voice cut through his fantasy, making him blink his tired eyes back open. George hummed in question, wordlessly asking what they wanted. 

“Sap left a few minutes ago. You sound like you need to go to sleep. Did you sleep much last night?” George snorted at the thought that Dream sounded much like a worried mother.  _ Or boyfriend.  _ His heart clenched. 

“Only a couple hours. I’m really sleepy.” His words were barely above a whisper, sleep coating his throat like a thick layer of chocolate. 

Dream chuckles, “Go to sleep George, we’ll talk tomorrow yeah?” 

“Mhm, okay.” He agreed, already closing down all his open tabs. 

“Good night George, I love you.” Dream’s voice was sickeningly sweet, George briefly wondered if it was possible for him to drown in their honey. 

“You too. Night.” He hung up, not even registering the note of affection he had signed off with. George pushes himself up off of his chair before flopping directly into his bed. Maybe he’ll finally sleep well for a night, his body was certainly tired enough. 


	3. Have you no idea that you're in deep?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by Do I Wanna Know? 
> 
> \----------  
> George does a chess stream with Wilbur, new feelings arise.

Days drift into each other, each night slipping into the morning almost without George even noticing. With each day that passed George felt his heart grow fonder and fonder, it was in the way that Dream spoke that George fell. He found himself lost in each perfectly punctuated sentence laced with genuine adoration. Even platonic the amount of love that rested in every fibre of Dream’s being was astounding, spoiling any person in his life that had even the littlest of significance to him. 

George can barely handle the heartache anymore. Was the pining worth it when he knew it would only earn him pain. 

One evening he lay flat against his bed, silence a thick sheet in his bedroom, covering him it its blankety chill. The silence rang loud in his ears, penetrating through his skin and itching up inside. He felt restless in bed, tossing and turning as he waited for time to pass. He was due to appear on a stream in half an hour with Wilbur, the fellow Brit had asked for George to play chess with him, the tournament they had done two days before having been so much fun that he wanted to play again. 

George had agreed, he too had a good time playing against Wilbur who was a good component as well as company. 

As the clock ticked closer George removed himself from his bed, settling comfortable in his desk chair and booting up his discord. Wilbur was already online so he shot the man a message, asking if he was ready. 

Instead of a reply his discord started to ring with Wilbur's icon hovering on his screen. 

“Gogy!” Wilbur yells as soon as he accepts the call, making George roll his eyes. “Turn your camera on!” George giggles but does as requested, revealing his hoodie clad self, hair fluffy from where he had been laying in bed. George immediately begins to flatten his hair with the palm of his hair. 

“Shouldn’t you turn yours on too?” George asked, staring into his camera lens. George's eyes are caught by the turning on of Wilbur’s camera, immediately drawn to the curls of hair that sat atop his head.  _ I wonder what it would be like to touch it.  _ George wondered absent mindedly.  _ Wait, what?  _ George had never thought anything like that about Wilbur before. 

“Are you ready to get your ass kicked in chess for an hour?” Wilbur grinned. 

“You wish.” George scoffs. 

“Good because I’m starting the stream now.” Wilbur instantly went into streamer mode, the persona that Wilbur had cultivated over the past two years.

Throughout the stream Wilbur kept making harmless flirty comments, calling him cute and other compliments that left him with flushed cheeks that he couldn’t refute each time Wilbur looked at him. 

“Awh is Gogy embarrassed by me hitting on him?” Wilbur teased as George moved his horse to take Wilbur’s bishop. 

“You don’t mean it so why would I be embarrassed.” George murmurs with another roll of his eyes. He briefly thought about when his mother used to tell him his eyes would get stuck that way if he kept rolling his eyes so much. 

“Oh but I do.” Wilbur grinned, not even mourning the loss of his chess piece. 

George snorts. “Shut up Wilbur.” With a low chuckle, Wilbur complies and stops his flirty remarks. They continue to play for a few more games before deciding to end the stream. 

“That was a good stream.” George comments as soon as Wilbur descends into silence. 

“I meant it.” Wilbur blurts, staring at George through the camera. 

“What?” George didn’t know what Wilbur was on about, blinking blankly back at Wilbur. 

“My flirting. I meant it.” the monotone lilt to Wilbur’s voice oozed seriousness and sent shivers down George’s spine.

“You did?” He questions, cheeks flushing red. 

“You’re cute when you blush.” Wilbur compliments with an easy smile. 

“No, you’re cute.” Is all George can respond with, surprised by his own boldness. 

“You can’t say things like that.” Wilbur groans, leaning back in his chair.

“Like what?” George asks playing dumb even though he knows exactly what he said. 

“Like this feeling flows both ways.” Wilbur asks, voice deep in a way that rumbles through George’s chest. “Cos I can see it don’t” Wilbur chuckles, shaking his head with a wistful smile playing on his lips. “I’ve been wanting to kiss you but I don’t know if you feel the same as I do.” George sits in stunned silence, unsure of what to say in response to Wilbur’s honest words.

“I should go.” Wilbur gives George a tight smile, leaning forward to press the end call button. 

“I’m sort of hoping that you’ll stay.” George whispers timidly, playing with his fingers in an attempt to calm his nerves. 

“Don’t play with my feelings George.” Wilbur warns with a pointed gaze. George shakes his head, cheeks flushed pink. 

“I just want to give this a chance.” George shrugs his shoulder petulantly. 

“Are you sure you’re not too busy being Dream’s to fall for somebody new?” Wilbur questions, tilting his head in a way that is cuter than it should be. 

George hesitates before shaking his head no. “I’m ready to move on.” 

“You want a distraction.” Wilbur states bluntly. George opens his mouth to protest but is silenced by Wilbur raising his hand. “You’re lucky I’m more than willing to be that for you.” George can’t help the grin that appears on his face. 

“Can we go on a date then?” He asks, unable to deny the excitement he felt for what felt like the first time in weeks on end. 

“That’s no way to ask a man out.” Wilbur mocks but his toothy grin shows just how delighted he is by George’s proposition. “I’d love to though. Does Thursday work for you?” 

George opens his calendar to see the entirety of his week free. “I- yeah, yeah it does.” George felt dizzy on his own happiness. 

“Great, I’ll text you a time and place.” The matching soft smile and pink flushed cheeks that Wilbur wore comforted George into knowing that for the first time in years something he felt wasn’t one sided. 

“Cool, I’ll talk to you then.” George concluded, teasing his bottom lip between his lips to suppress the grin that he couldn’t help. 

“Goodnight George.” Wilbur tilts his head again and George is helpless in the way his heart stutters at the sight. 

“Bye, Wil.” George presses the end call button, immediately falling back into his seat, his hands flying up to his face to cover his flushed cheeks despite no one being around to see them. George released a burst of excited giggles, cringing at the high pitched noises that escaped his throat. 

He sits like that for a moment before sitting back up in his chair to scroll to his and Sapnap's chat. 

**Georgenotfound:** I’ve got a date :)

Sapnap’s response was almost instant. 

**Sapnap:** what???? Who with??? 

**Georgenotfound:** Wilbur. He just asked me out. 

**Sapnap:** I was watching the stream but I didn’t know he was serious. Are you sure you want to? Is your heart still open? 

**Georgenotfound:** Yeah, it’s about time I stopped trying for a straight man. 

**Sapnap:** Whatever makes you happy, man. I want all the details though. 

George rolls his eyes but affirms he will tell Sapnap about what happens when it does. The butterflies in George’s chest were for once accompanied by hope, he finally had a chance at happiness with someone, he wasn’t going to give it up. 


	4. Kiss the colour of a constellation falling into place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based off of Arabella. 
> 
> \------  
> George and Wilbur go on their date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise it's not a wilbur x gogy fanfic

The day of his date rolled around faster than he expected and he awoke with nervous excitement stewing in the pit of his stomach. Him and Wilbur had agreed to meet in Brighton to have a recreation of the first time they met but this time with their intentions clear. His train was due to leave at 10 AM so his morning started earlier than he was accustomed to. 

Each moment that passed as he waited to arrive in Brighton was just spent in anxious agony. He was worried what Wilbur wouldn’t feel the same way about him once he spent more time with him in person. 

His train eventually rolled to a stop at his station and he clambered out of his train compartment onto the platform. The platform was busy, bustling with people heading off to work. George felt overwhelmed by all of the bodies but managed to navigate his way to the front of the station where a familiar man stood leaning against a brick wall. George couldn’t ignore the way that his heart began to race at the sight of Wilbur. As he approached the man the overwhelming difference in their height, the near foot difference was undoubtedly something that George liked. 

“Hey.” George greeted, voice shaky with nerves. Wilbur looked up, grin splitting wide on his face as his eyes fell on the shorter man. 

“George!” Wilbur exclaims happily, opening his arms for a hug. George complied, placing himself in Wilbur’s arms. Wilbur was thin, fitting easily in George's arms, it was nice. The hug was comfortable and George felt safe. They pull away from the hug and look at each other with soft eyes. 

“Come on, let's go get some lunch.” Wilbur motioned with his head for them to begin walking down the street. They fell into easy conversation and George was relieved by how easy it was to be beside Wilbur. Their fingers brushed against each other and George looked down to their hands, seeing Wilburs twitch as if itching to link with his own. George smiled coyly, reaching out and interlocking their hands. 

George looked up to Wilbur’s face and saw that the man wore a red flush and surprised expression. George smiled sheepishly before facing forward again, tugging Wilbur’s hand in encouragement for them to continue their journey. 

George couldn’t deny that he was having a good time. Wilbur was nothing but a gentleman the entire time, even going as far as to pull out George’s chair in the restaurant. That had earned him a sharp shove to his shoulder which Wilbur had laughed brightly at. George liked hearing Wilbur laugh. 

Their evening had ended at the beach, the two sitting on the rocky beach staring as the sun drifted behind the clouds. They watched as shades of yellows and orange seamlessly seeped into each other and faded down into the earth, disappearing until tomorrow when they will be blessed by their grace once more. 

“Thank you for giving this a chance.” Wilbur murmurs, his fingers tracing over the back of George’s hand.

“I’m really glad that I did.” George confesses, tearing his gaze away from the sunset to look at Wilbur. Wilbur turns to look back at George, expression hopeful. 

“Can I kiss you?” Wilbur seems hesitant to ask but when he does he’s immediately searching George’s face for discomfort. 

“ _ Yes.”  _ George breathes, his heart thumping in his throat. Wilbur leans forward and catches George’s lips in what is quite possibly the gentlest kiss George has ever experienced. Wilbur’s hand comes up to cup George’s cheek, his thumb dragging carefully across the surface. 

When the time comes for George to leave he is hesitant to go. Their date had gone even better than he hoped it would, George actually really liked Wilbur. They parted with one last kiss and a promise to have another date. 

George spent his entire train ride home texting Sapnap as promised, relaying each event as it happened. 

\-------

Two weeks passed and things with George and Wilbur had been going well, the two of them called every day and had even begun streaming more frequently together. Their audience had been suspicious of the twos relationship and neither of them had confirmed or denied it, not feeling the need to hide what they were doing. That’s how George found himself on the SMP with a group of his streaming friends and thousands of viewers watching as Wilbur openly spoke of their date. 

“His lips are like the galaxy’s edge. It’s an exploration he’s made of outer space.” George can hear the grin in Wilbur’s voice as he spews his sappy comment. 

“You’re so annoying.” George groans, throwing his head into his hands. 

“The best end to my day was the sunset in his eyes. It wouldn’t be half as picturesque without a catch in his light.” Wilbur continued to ramble despite their thousands of viewers. “The horizon tries but it’s just not as kind on the eyes.” 

“I don’t know why I went on a date with you.” George scowls, chasing Wilbur’s player model around the L’manberg crater and punching him incessantly. 

“You had a great time.” Wilbur accuses with chuckles escaping his undoubtedly smiling lips. 

“Yeah, I did.” George confesses, expression softening into a fond smile. 

The others in the call all laughed at Wilbur, revelling in the embarrassment that George was feeling. George couldn’t help but notice the wheezing laughter of Dream that he was accustomed to hearing was absent from the chorus of teasing. George’s lips curled into a frown, Dream was usually the first to tease him, loving the way he could push all of George’s buttons easily. George glanced at his chat and saw that they were asking about his sudden change in mood. 

“I’m fine chat, don’t worry.” George dismissed, looking back to the game. 

“Don’t be sad my love.” Wilbur jokingly coddled. 

George groaned again. “I am never going out with you again.” 

“Tell that to our date tomorrow.” Wilbur sounded so smug as he spoke.

“You’re so stupid.” George snorted, rolling his eyes for what felt like the thousandth time. 

“Oh my God, how are four people third wheeling right now?” Sapnap’s voice rang through his ears, breaking the moment that George and Wilbur had been having.

“Awh are you jealous Sappy nappy?” George teased in a condescending tone. George and Sapnap quickly devolved in childish bickering and the conversation between George and Wilbur was seemingly forgotten about. 


	5. Forever isn't for everyone, is forever for you?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by Snap Out Of It. 
> 
> \-------  
> George feels guilty for how he feels so he calls Sapnap but the night ends with a call from Dream.

A week later and George could honestly say he was feeling good. Each day he woke up to texts from Wilbur wishing him well and each time they never failed to make him smile. Wilbur was sweet and attentive, the man never failed to make George smile and that was something important to him. 

Despite his developing relationship with Wilbur he couldn’t help but feel as if something was missing. It didn’t help that he felt as if Dream had been pulling away from him. Their daily, constant stream of messages had devolved into occasional messages about coding or recording. George missed him more than anything but he felt guilty in doing so. Wilbur deserved better than a man who was constantly thinking about another man, no matter how strong he felt for Wilbur, it wasn’t fair on him. 

It left George confined to his bed yet again, the guilt eating away at him with every moment that passes. George huffed, rolling over in his bed and burying his face into the fabric of his pillowcase. 

He pulled his phone from beneath his pillow and opened up his discord, clicking on Sapnap’s account. 

**Georgenotfound:** Hey, can we call?

**Sapnap:** sure, you okay? 

**Georgenotfound:** Miss you. 

His phone immediately begins to ring and George answers instantly. 

“You miss me Gogy?” Sapnap coo’s down the phone. 

“I really do.” George confesses, hating how vulnerable he sounds. 

“Are you alright?” Sapnap’s voice immediately turns serious with concern. 

“Can we talk about you first?” George asks, desperate to get a distraction from his own mind, if only briefly. 

“I don’t know what to tell you. Florida is hotter than Texas. I’ve finally unpacked all of my things and the house has actually started to feel like my own now, it feels like home.” Sapnap sounds so excited talking about his move, it makes George smile. 

“I’m glad you’re having a good time.” George wished he could be there with him in Florida. 

“It’s been good, it’d be better with you here though. Especially with how Dream’s been moping around.” Sapnap whined. 

“He’s been moping around?” George furrowed his eyebrows, did it have anything to do with how little they’d been talking?

“Yeah he was fine until…” Sapnap cut himself off with a sharp inhale of realisation. 

“Until when?” George prodded, sitting up in his bed.

“Oh my God.” Sapnap practically squealed, excitement thick in his voice.

“Nick, what?” George whined, not liking not knowing what was happening.

“I’ve got to go, I’ll text you in a little bit.” With that the call ends and George is left confused, silence hanging heavy in the air once more.

\------

The time in between their call and Sapnap’s next text spanned three hours. George had spent these hours pottering around his house, feeling lost in what to do with himself. The moment his notification went off, George practically dove at his phone.

**Sapnap:** Sorry to leave you in the dark Gogy, Dream’s going to call you I made sure.

**George:** Wait why???

**Sapnap:** To apologise :)

George looked at the message with a frown, about to type out a response prodding for more answers but his phone began to ring, Dream’s name across his screen. 

He pressed answer, pulling the phone up to his ear as he walked into his kitchen. 

“Dream?” George questioned. 

“Hey, George.” Dream greets, sounding hesitant in a way that makes George’s frown deepen.

“It’s been awhile.” George comments, unsure of what else today. He had never felt like he was walking through a minefield when talking to Dream before.

“I know, I’m sorry I’ve been distant. I've just been trying to figure some things out.” Dream apologises, sincerity laced through his voice.

“It’s fine.” George shrugged it off, beginning to open cupboards to look for something to eat. 

“It’s not. I really am sorry.” Dream had always been a kind person, the man was always so giving so it was rare that he disappeared like that.    
“You’re forgiven.” George tells him, voice fonder than he means to. 

“Thank you” For once George is comfortable with the silence that falls upon them, comforted just by the sound of Dream breathing. 

“I heard that you fell in love.” Dream breathed down the line, throat tight. 

“I’m not in love with Wilbur.” George stated defensively.

“Or near enough.” Dream continued. 

“I’m not.” George frowned, voice whiny with refusal. 

Dream was silent for a moment, almost as if pondering something. “So when I asked you if you were in love, you didn’t mean you loved Wilbur?”

“I didn’t say I was in love.” George scoffed. 

“You didn’t need to.” Came Dream’s response. “Who did you mean?” Dream asked, curiosity evident in his voice. 

“It doesn’t matter now. I’m with Wilbur.” George dismissed, shuffling through his kitchen and pulling out ingredients for dinner. 

“It sounds like you’re settling, or giving up.” Dream accused. “It doesn’t sound much like you.” 

“I’m done trying Dream. It’s been the same thing for years and I’m fed up.” George felt frustration boiling under his skin. Dream just didn’t understand what it was like being in love with him. George had tried so desperately to move on and he felt as he had been but Dream made it so hard to escape the riptide. 

“If you really wanted them you wouldn’t give up.” George sighed at Dream’s words, feeling helpless.

“He doesn’t want me, Dream.” George knew he sounded so crestfallen, weeks, no years, of heartache finally bubbling to the surface. 

“Anyone would be stupid not to want you.” Dream’s voice was soft, almost loving and George detested how it sounded in his ears. 

“That’s rich.” George huffed a laugh.    
“What?” George imagined Dream with furrowed eyebrows and mussed biscuit hued hair. He hated that he still wanted to see Dream’s face. 

“If you’d just snap out of it you’d know what I meant.” The force behind George’s words were harsh, each syllable riddled with a vicious bite that he hadn’t meant to spit out. A silence falls over them, the only noise Dream’s ragged breathing down the line. 

“George-” Dream breathes, he sounds as if he’s close to tears and George aches at the sound. He wonders if Dream would feel the same way if he knew how many times he had cried over him.

“I’m going Dream, I’ll talk to you soon, okay?” He tries to soften his voice, tone shaky as he attempts to contain his anger. 

“I’ll be here waiting ever so patiently for you.” Dream whispers before hanging up the call.    
“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting.” George replies even though he knows Dream can’t hear him. He gives a dry chuckle, chucking his phone down onto the counter and leaving the kitchen. George had lost his appetite. 


	6. Sort of feels like I'm running out of time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based off of Why'd You Only Call Me When You're High?
> 
> \----------  
> George and Wilbur? Oh.  
> George goes to the pub and then gets high.

The next day George called Wilbur as soon as he woke up. 

“Hey George.” Wilbur greeted, his voice sweet with what George could only describe as like strawberries. George much prefers to taste honey. 

“Hey Wil, uhm we need to talk.” George decided it was much better if he got straight to the point. 

“I knew it was coming.” Wilbur chuckled into the receiver. 

“What?” George shrieked defensively.

“You still love him, right?” Wilbur accused but there was no anger or frustration behind his words.

George took a sharp inhale, heart dropping and yet thundering loudly in his ears. “I- yeah, I do.”

Wilbur chuckled again, his voice rumbling in George’s chest the same way it always does. “It’s fine.”

“It’s not, I promised I wouldn’t hurt you.” George’s heart hurt, the guilt was overwhelming to the point of bringing him to tears.

“I told you I was willing to be a distraction, George.” Wilbur supplied in an attempt to sooth George’s mind. 

“I know, you just deserve better than this.” He sighed, hair running through sheets of his dark hair. 

“You can’t help how you feel, I know that.” It was unfair on Wilbur that he was comforting George when he was the one doing the hurting. 

“This doesn’t mean I don’t feel anything for you, I do, I really do.” George attempted to explain but he had never been one for vocalising his emotions. 

“You’re just not in love with me.” Wilbur hums. “I don’t think I loved you either as much as I adored you. No hard feelings George, I hope we can still be friends.” The sincerity in Wilbur’s voice makes George smile, knowing that Wilbur actually did want to stay friends.

“Of course, I just think I might need a minute before I can do that.” George sighed, knowing he wasn’t just going to get over Wilbur overnight.

“I need to do that too.” Wilbur agreed, sighing deeply. 

“Thank you, Wil.” George already felt lighter. He knew he was going to miss Wilbur, the man had treated him so well in the two short months they had been together. 

“We’re good Gogy. I hope you sort things out.” With that their phone call ended, leaving George in the silence of the morning rain. 

Each thump against his windowpane helped ease his pain, thundering heavily in thick sheets. George pulled himself from his bed and sat atop his windowsill. He cracked open the window and allowed the cool morning air to seep into his room. George paid no mind to the droplets of rain that landed on his exposed knees, leaning his head against the frame of the window. He allowed his eyes to fall shut, focusing on the rhythmic fall of water hitting concrete. The wind bristled against his skin, sending sharp shivers down George’s spine. It was odd how something so cold could warm him so much, kindling the fire of happiness in his heart. 

George knows when he moves to Florida he’s going to miss the rainfall in England.  _ When.  _ George wasn’t even sure if Dream would want him there if he ever figured out how he felt. 

George shakes the thought, he needed to get out. 

After getting lunch, it was already 3PM, George grabbed his phone and texted some of his local friends, asking them if they wanted to go drinking. When he received texts of affirmation he immediately got up to get ready, showering and shaving his face. 

George dressed in black jeans and a dark blue fitted shirt. He smoothed the creases of his shirt with his hands before leaving to go meet his friends at the pub. 

Three of his friends stood outside of the pub waiting for him, shouting his name in lieu of a greeting as soon as they spotted him. It felt good to see his friends, he hadn’t spent quality time with them since before the pandemic. 

As they walked through the doors George’s eyes fell on a tall man, his hair biscuit hued and eyes a green which appeared golden to George, freckles crossing the bridge of his nose. George's heart stuttered at the sight. He noted the way the man's arm rested around a girl's shoulders, his other hand holding what he assumed to be the girl’s high heels. George frowned, he looked so much like what he pictured Dream to look like. 

George shook his head, trying to get the thought from his mind, his friend shoved his shoulder, helping him tear his eyes from the beautiful blonde man.

They stay in the pub for a few hours, steadily drinking. George had never much been one for alcohol so he remained relatively sober as his friends drank more and more. 

“Do you guys want to go to the park and smoke like we used to?” One of George’s friends suggested, his eyes alight with mischief. They all seemed to agree and made their way out of the pub, stumbling their way to the local park. George couldn’t find it in himself to be surprised when the same friend pulled out weed, a grinder and some papers, nor was he surprised when it was handed for him to roll. He did as they asked, rolling a joint so that they could all pass it around. It was exactly what George needed, to sit in a park with some of his closest friends and get high. It wasn’t something he did often but it was nice every now and then. They continued to smoke and talk until around 3 AM when they all decided to go their separate ways. 

As George began his walk home his mind wandered to Dream. He missed Dream. He wanted to call Dream. He should call Dream. George pulled out his phone and clumsily selected Dream’s contact. 

“George?” Dream’s voice rumbled through the receiver.  _ Honey.  _ George thought absentmindedly. 

“Dream!” George called out delightedly. “I missed you!”

“Are you high?” Dream asked, amusement trickled through his voice. 

“That doesn’t matter! What matters is that I went to a pub tonight and saw a really pretty guy.”

“I don’t think I want to hear this.” 

“He looked exactly like I imagine you would. Briefly I though I had seen you leaving, carrying her shoes.” 

“Her?”   
“Megan’s. I decided once again I was just dreaming of bumping into you.”

“George it’s 3 in the morning for you.” George hummed in response. “Why’d you only call me when you’re high?” Dream chuck;ed.

“High? We call all the time.” George questioned defensively. 

“No, I call you. You never call me.” Dream corrected, tone light and teasing.

“I don’t know. Don’t want to annoy you.” George shrugs, kicking at rocks as he walked down the pavement. 

“You never annoy me.” There comes the honey again, sticking George’s tongue to the roof of his mouth.

“I don’t think I’m capable of making alright decisions right now.” George confesses under his breath.

“What do you mean?” Dream pushes, knowingly taking advantage of George’s more open state.

“I’m having bad ideas.” George giggles. 

“Like what?” Dream was too curious for his own good, George was sure it would get him in trouble one day.

“Just telling him I love him.” He sighs, tilting his head up to the stars, he hoped that Dream was looking up at the sky too. Knowing that they shared the same sky offered George solace when he thought about the vast distance that separated them. 

“You should.” Dream encourages.

“Maybe one day, when I’m more confident that I won’t just be sad about it.” George shrugs even though he knows Dream can’t see it. 

“You’re cute like this.” Dream compliments, George briefly thinks that maybe Dream is letting himself be just as vulnerable as George is. 

“Am I not cute all the time?” George teases, not expecting an answer.

“You are.” He can’t help the childish giggles that escape him at Dream’s words.   
“Thanks.” George’s smile must be blinding to those who can see him. “You’re cute too.” He admits. 

“You don’t even know what I look like.” Dream points out, amusement apparent in the way he talks. 

“I’d like to.” George really would like to, he thinks about it all the time. “I reckon you’ll be prettier than the guy at the pub.” He blurts randomly.

“You do?” Dream asks through a laugh.

“To me you will be.” George nods to the lamppost in front of him. 

“Why’s that?” Dream hums and it’s intoxicating. 

“Because you’re  _ my  _ Dream.” George pulls emphasis on the ‘my’, sounding like a petulant child claiming rights to a toy. 

Dream’s breath hitches through the receiver. “Use my real name, please.” Dream pleads.

“My _ Clay. _ ” George giggles, stumbling over a raised stone. “I broke up with Wilbur.” He announces, jumping topic yet again.

“You did?” If George wasn’t so inebriated he would probably notice the relief in Clay’s voice.

George hums his affirmation. “Yeah, I felt guilty, he deserved better.” 

“You’re perfect George.” Clay whispers just loud enough for George to catch.

George snorts. “I'm not. Even if I am, I’m still not perfect for Wilbur.” 

“Who are you perfect for?” Clay sounds almost breathless. 

“Not telling.” He sing-songs. ”Maybe I’ll tell you after he realises.”

“I think he already has.” Clay whispers under his breath.

“What was that?” George asks, furrowing his eyebrows.

“Nothing Georgie, are you home?” Clay’s tone is smooth and caring.

“Yeah, just opening the door.” George responds as he slides his keys from his pocket.   
“I’ll hang up then. Call me tomorrow, okay?” The promise of a tomorrow makes George's heart warm with delight. 

“Okay Clay, Goodnight.” He bids adieu, already trudging up his stairs.

“Night, George.” Clay hangs up, allowing for George to flop down into his bed, sighing as the warmth of the sheets welcome him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't smoke weed unless it's legal for you too. It's stupid and not even that great, I prefer drinking.


	7. You're kissing to cut through the gloom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by Knee Socks
> 
> \----------  
> George gets an amazon package. Him and Dream talk.

The next two days pass in the blink of an eye with George throwing all of his attention into a new code for his next Youtube video. Coding had always offered him a calm when in need of a distraction. Coding had straight answers, there was no room for ambiguity or answers up for interpretation. George hated unanswered questions so it was perfect for him. His hours of coding was interrupted by his mother coming into his room, handing him a package with a smile and leaving the room. That was strange, George didn’t remember ordering anything. 

He tore into the package with a confused frown, even more confused to pull out cellophane covered cotton. Tearing open the cellophane he pulls out two long strips of cotton, unrolling them to reveal long socks, ones that would undoubtedly go past his knees. 

George pulls up a tab for amazon, going into his order history to see a pair of socks staring straight back at him, the very same ones in his lap. He must have bought them when he was high. 

George opened up his discord and clicked onto his chat with Dream and Sapnap. 

**Georgenotfound:** A package of knee socks just arrived at my house.

**Sapnap:** For you???

**Georgenotfound:** Yep, for me

**Dream:** Who bought them? 

**Sapnap:** Was it Wilbur?

**Georgenotfound:** You know we broke up dickhead.

**Georgenotfound:** It was me, I bought them when I was high.

**Dream:** High George strikes again.

**Georgenotfound:** Shut up.

**Sapnap:** Try them on and send us a pic

**Dream:** That’s a bit gay

**Sapnap:** Oh come on we’re all wearing socks here.

**Georgenotfound:** this is weird

**Sapnap:** Do it!!!!!

**Sapnap:** You already own them so why not?

**Georgenotfound:** Fine. one second. 

George stands from his desk chair and sheds his jogging bottoms, glad he was already wearing a hoodie that fell below the length of his boxers. He stares at the offending socks sceptically before picking up one of them, pulling it on over his foot and slowly up his calf. The fabric was soft on his leg, sliding across the fine hairs of his leg seamlessly. Once over his knee he pulls on the second, looking down at his legs unsure. 

George walks over to the floor length mirror in his room, turning himself in the mirror, looking at himself from every angle. It was cute, he looked cute. Even he could admit that. 

With a sigh he picks up his phone, taking a photo of him in the mirror. 

**Georgenotfound: *** Picture attachment*

**Sapnap:** Damn George, looking good. 

**Sapnap:** I want it to be known that Dream just yelled very loudly

**Georgenotfound:** Oh? 

**Dream:** Shut up pandas.

**Sapnap:** You’re not denying it.

George’s phone vibrated with a notification from Dream on snapchat. George opened the message expecting it to be the same picture of his cat or feet but that’s not what his eyes landed on. A man lay back against his pillow, an arm clad in a grey hoodie lay across Dream’s eyes but the painting of red high on his cheekbones still remained visible to George. George’s eyes moved from the pink on Dream’s cheeks down to the pink of his lips, slightly parted and looking so incredibly soft. George wanted to kiss them. He wanted to kiss them so desperately. He must have spent minutes on end staring at Dream’s face before he finally looked at the caption. 

_ ‘I think you’ve killed me.’  _

George bit his lip in an attempt to suppress his grin, pressing his lock and home button in order to screenshot the photo. 

He opens his camera to send a response, switching to the back camera to capture himself in the mirror, this time with his hand fisting at the bottom on his hoodie, rucking it up to reveal more of his thigh. He stares at the picture, trying to think of what would be an appropriate response to his best friend who was  _ definitely  _ blushing at the sight of him in knee socks. 

_ I’ve got a feeling I might have lit the very fuse you were trying not to light. _

The moment it registers as sent it is opened and then turned into the screenshot notification. 

**Dream:** This is a dangerous game you’re playing. 

**George:** I’m not sure I know what you mean. 

George knew playing coy wasn’t going to be successful right now, he knew the risk he was taking. 

**Dream:** You’re so pretty George.

**George:** Am I? 

**Dream:** You know you are. You’re showing off. 

**George:** So what if I am?

George fell to the floor on his knees, sitting back on his heels in front of the mirror. He tugs the loose fabric of his hoodie down between his legs, keeping his hand there as he snaps another picture. This one too ends up being screenshotted and George grins at the notification, satisfaction bubbling in the pit of his stomach. 

George awaits Dream’s next text but instead his phone begins to ring. Without a second thought he answers, “Hello?” He greets sweetly. 

“George.” Dream’s voice was thicker than he was used to, the honey rich in his throat. 

“Dream.” George responds mockingly. 

“I thought I told you to call me Clay.” Drea-  _ Clay  _ drawled down the phone, George practically melted on the floor, fighting the want to whine. 

“Sorry,  _ Clay _ .” George teased, fiddling with the fabric of his hoodie between his fingers. 

“I don’t even have any words.” Clay confesses, suddenly sounding breathless. 

“Is that a good thing?” George chuckles, stroking his own thigh absentmindedly. 

“It’s better than good.” Clay scoffs. “You’re gorgeous.” He compliments sincerely. 

“That photo of your face made my brain malfunction.” George whispered out his confession, knowing he was crossing the bounds of friendship. 

“It did?” Clay sounded so smug, George wanted to kiss it away. 

“You know it did. You wanted to have the same effect on me I was having on you.” George accused.

“Guilty as charged.” Clay chuckles, a rustle of bedsheets sounding through the receiver. 

“You’re so petty.” George tuts, gnawing on his bottom lip.

“And you’re so pretty.” Clay replies easily, making George scoff and splutter. 

“That was so stupid.” George rolls his eyes. George’s phone vibrates against the side of his head. “Oh, wait a sec.” he tells Clay as he pulls the phone away from his ear, seeing Wilbur’s name flash across the screen. George frowns, dismissing the notification before returning to his call. 

“Who’s calling?” Clay asks, George could almost say his tone was jealous. 

“You know exactly who it is.” George snorts. 

“You’re not going to pick it up?” Clay asks, surprised.   
“No, I’m talking to you.” George stated as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, for him it was.

“You’re unbelievable.” Clay groans,  _ honey _ . “Would you judge me if I asked you to send me another picture?”

“Do I get another one?” George bargains. 

“Of course, Georgie.” Clay practically sing-songs. 

George moved his hand from his lap, rolling his shoulders back and placing his hand behind him, sitting in a position that positively exudes submission. He puts Clay on speaker, snapping another picture and sending it without giving it another thought. 

“ _ Shit.”  _ Clay groans, the sound burns to George’s core. 

“You alright?” He giggles down the line.

“No, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to think about anything else.” Clay breathes.

“Is it selfish of me to be happy about that?” George’s snapchat is lit up with a photo from Clay, he opens it without hesitation. George’s breath hitches. A face reveal. Biscuit hued hair sits mussed atop a head of tanned skin, freckles dot Clay’s nose just like he said they did. His face is burned red with a deep flush, even pinker than the lips George couldn’t stop thinking about kissing. They’re pulled up into a smile that’s nothing but alluring. Clay’s eyes creased in the corners from his smile, making them close ever so slightly but not enough that George can’t see their colour.  _ Honey.  _ Is all George can think. He knows they’re green but to him they’re glistening pools of honey that he couldn’t wait to drown in. Clay’s beautiful, just like he knew he would be. 

“You alright?” Clay mocked George’s words from earlier. 

George screenshots the photo, knowing he’s going to spend too long later examining every detail. “I told you that you’d be prettier than the man from the pub.” Clay wheezes out a laugh, shocked at George’s reaction. 

“I don’t know how to respond to that.” He admits.

“Sorry.” George apologises although he doesn't find himself meaning it one bit.    
“You’re fine. Today has been a lot.” Clay huffs a laugh. 

“It’s been way more than I expected it to be.” George admits, standing up from in front of his mirror and sitting onto his bed.   
“I’m glad it happened.” The sincerity in his voice makes George’s heart skip a beat. 

“Me too. I just didn’t think this would be something you’d like.” George shrugs, staring down at his body.

“What part? The socks or you?” Clay questions, sounding worried about George, the shift in tone sends warmth through George’s body. 

“Either.” He utters, laying back onto his bed and staring up to the ceiling. 

“Both are definitely incredible.” Clay affirms, throat tight with something George isn’t used to hearing.

“Oh, shut up.” George shuts down, rolling his eyes yet again. 

“Hey!” Clay exclaimed, feeling betrayal in his shriek. 

“Thank you for trusting me.” George hummed, referencing Clay showing him his face.   
“You’re my best friend George, of course I trust you.” Clay affirms. 

“We’ve crossed some friendship lines, Clay.” George laughs easily, letting his eyes fall shut, the picture of Clay’s face burnt in behind his eyes.

“You’re right.” Clay agrees. “I’m not sorry about it.”

“Me neither.” George rolls onto his side, curling his body up into a ball atop the sheets.

“I need to figure this out though. I’ve never felt anything for a guy before.” Clay admits. George knew there was going to be something. Despite his understanding he couldn’t help but feel the seeds of disappointment sew themselves into the pit of his stomach. 

“That’s okay. I don’t expect anything from you.” George tells him, despite the hurt.   
“You’re too good.” Clay compliments.

“I try.” George jokes, hoping to shift the new weight on his heart. 

“Nick’s yelling at me through my door, I should get going.” George nods despite Clay not being there to see it.

“Okay, message me later?” George asks, hoping desperately for a yes.

“Of course.” George smiles.

“Bye, Clay.” He breathes out, Clay’s name like honey on his tongue.

“Bye, George.” The call ends. George sighs. 


	8. My sweet rigmarole

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based off of the song I want it all. 
> 
> George is alone again, he drinks. His mum knows best.

They don’t talk about it. In fact, Clay disappears again, he doesn’t stream, doesn’t upload on YouTube, doesn’t tweet and doesn’t even respond to any of George’s messages. Each message George sends is left unopened, taking with it a piece of hope. Despite his disappointment, he’s not surprised, that evening had been too good to be true. Having Clay be so open and  _ his _ was something he only allowed to drift by in sleepless moments. 

This time the nighttime darkness doesn’t ache George, instead a bittersweet happiness rumbles through the veins of arms eager to reach out and hold. It is a calm unfamiliar that washes over him, drowning him in selfless content. He’s in the mood to listen to someone ramble to him about those things they hold most dear to them, hanging off of their every word. He would normally seek out Clay, Clay was renowned for getting lost in his excitement over topics he cared deeply for. Instead he sits in silence, back pressed against the wall of his windowsill and feet tucked up in front of him. 

In spite of it all he still wants it. George wants it all. He wants Clay to be the one in his arms, mindlessly blabbering about some kind of code. He wants to run his fingers through sheets of hair in sweet silent affection. George finds his fingers moving mindlessly through the air. He frowns at them, longing for Clay like he always seems to do. 

George sighs, throwing his head back against his wall and letting his eyes fall shut. The wind whistles in from the open window, brushing against his cheeks, pushing his hair up out of his face. He reached between his legs and picked up a glass of whiskey, taking a short sip and flinching at the bitter taste. He wasn’t usually one to drink the spirit straight but he didn’t have any mixers with him. George let out a sigh through his nose, it was just like Clay to tease him and then hit the road. 

The faint rumble of melancholy music coats his bedroom in a veil of longing, desperation for a home who sits thousands of miles away, purposefully ignoring whatever advance George attempted to make. 

His bedroom door swings open, preceded by a brisk knock. George opens his eyes to see his mother in the doorway. 

“I remember when you were a teenager I used to catch you sitting there with a stolen cigarette between your lips.” She mused, leaning against the doorframe. 

“Yeah, that’s not much for me anymore.” George chuckles. 

“Now that it’s legal?” His mum questions with a lighthearted accusational tone. 

“Now I can drink.” He raises his glass of whiskey in her direction, smiling cheekily.

“You really are my son.” She laughs, motioning with a glass of white wine. “Any occasion you’re drinking by yourself for?”

“Love woes.” George sighs, his mouth falling into a pout. 

“It’s been awhile since you’ve had those.” She pulls out his desk chair. “Come on, tell mum everything.” His mum encourages with a tipsy smile. 

“Jeez I’m 24, I feel like I’m 16 again.” George snorts, sitting up straight on his windowsill. 

“No shame in needing your mother’s advice.” George hummed in response, he supposes she was right, they had always been close anyway.

“So, you know Dream?” He started, despite knowing she most definitely did know who he was. 

“Your best friend for years now? Yeah, you might have mentioned him.” She sarcastically muses, taking a sip from her wine. 

“I’ve been in love with him for awhile now but I’ve kind of ignored it up until a few months ago.” George explains, worrying his lip between his bottom lip. 

“Is it not reciprocated?” Her eyebrows furrow, her tone making it seem as if she’s always thought the two were mad for eachother. 

“I don’t know!” He whines, throwing his head back and squeezing his eyes tight. “I thought it was but now he’s just not talking to me.” George knew he sounded pathetic but the whole situation made him  _ feel  _ pathetic. 

“Has he ever been with a guy before? Let alone a guy thousands of miles across an ocean?” His mum questioned. George hated her logic. 

“No but-” His mum interrupted him. “That’s got to be scary George. Thinking you know who you are for over 20 years and then finding out this new, big thing has to be terrifying.” 

George sits silently for a moment. “I’m willing to wait for him, I know he needs time but can’t I just be a little selfish and miss him?” He sips his drink again with a pout. 

“Of course you can.” She affirms, looking at her son sympathetically. 

“Hence the drinking.” He drinks down the last two gulps of his whiskey. “I just am going to let myself wallow for a bit, maybe after I’m done I’ll do something about it.” He shrugs, standing up to fix himself another drink. His mother intercepts him on his way to the desk, wrapping her arms around him. 

“You’ll figure it out Georgie, you’re a smart boy.” She mumbles, pressing a kiss to his temple before exiting the room. George hoped he would. He popped open the bottle of whiskey and poured it into his glass, flopping down into his desk chair. He switches his monitor on and discord immediately welcomes him, along with the familiar hum of his PC fan. George sees a spam of messages from Quackity along with 6 missed calls. He sighs before ringing him back, not even bothering to read his missed messages. 

“George! You are live right now!” Quackity yells, his voice laced with excitement. 

“I’m way too drunk for this.” He huffs, taking a sip of his whiskey. 

“What are we drinking tonight?” Quackity cheers.

“Whiskey.” Geroge chimes, the burning liquid just below his nose. 

“Just straight whiskey?” Quackity asked incredulously. 

“Yeah, tastes a bit shit.” George hummed, eyes falling closed.

“Drunk George is way too chill.” Quackity booed jokingly. 

George snorts. “Sorry to bore you quackmiester.” He apologises, words holding no sincerity. 

“You better be! Now get out of my stream!” Quackity yells, undoubtedly right up against his microphone.

George giggles. “Bye big Q!” George leaves the call and is immediately shot a message by Sapnap. 

**Sapnap: You? Drinking**

**Georgenotfound: Special occasion**

**Sapnap: and that is???**

**Georgenotfound: Clay ignoring me again**

**Sapnap: What the fuck? Do I need to yell at him again?**

**Georgenotfound: No, don’t worry. He needs time. I just miss him**

**Sapnap: You must be torn up over it if you're admitting feelings**

**Georgenotfound: I hate you**

**Sapnap; Love you too gogy <3 I’m going to go chat with Dream, see where his heads at. Drink safe**

**Georgenotfound: Always <3**


	9. Satisfaction feels like a distant memory

As George broke into consciousness the following morning he was greeted by the steady rhythm of his thumping brain. A groan immediately passes through his lips, this is why he didn’t drink too often. His low tolerance always left him bitter and practically unapproachable the following day. 

George plucks up his phone from the bedside table, reading the time to be 8 AM. He wasn’t sure why but every time he drank he woke up early in the morning, often before the sun had fully risen. Today, though, the sun was already poking through his curtain, its warmth chaining him to his bed, increasing the comfort of his bed. The bright light was harsh on his sensitive eyes, making him pull his duvet over his head. George unlocks his phone, not bothering to read the notifications on his lock screen as he clicks on snapchat. 

He starts from the bottom, opening messages from uni friends, most of them out drinking and yelling their missing of him, encouraging him to come with them the next time. George responds, telling them he hopes they got home safe and promising his attendance. As he reaches the top a message sent 5 hours ago from Nick stares at him, the square red indicating a picture. George opens it, inhaling sharply at the sight that greets him. 

A tall man is curled up on a sofa into the fetal position, seemingly in a desperation to feel small as thick, fluffy blankets are wrapped around his frame. The colour of the hair and sharp features cue George in on the man being Clay, but he looks softer than George has ever known him to be. Sleep has softened his features, his jaw slack and lips parted, his hair is mussed against the fabric of the sofa. There’s a pinching between his eyebrows, stress oozing from him even in his sleep. George’s heart softens at the sight. ‘ _ Had a long chat and Dream just passed out after lol.’  _ George feels a small amount of shame as he screenshots the image, adding it to his ever growing folder of Clay content. Nick begins to type immediately. 

**Nick: Simp.**

**Gogy: Go to sleep -_-**

**Nick: No, talking to Karl**

George giggled, he should have anticipated that that’s what the younger was doing awake. 

**Gogy: simp.**

George knew that Nick and Karl were strictly platonic, Nick being the most painfully straight man George had ever met but it was fun to tease him, especially when the American joked back. 

**Nick: gotta kiss the homies gogy ;)**

George snorts, swiping out of their conversation and putting his phone down. He wants food. George pulls himself from the bed, flinching at the throbbing pain in his head but pursuing his mission for food. The light in the rest of his house is even harsher than in his bedroom, either his mum or dad having already tossed the curtains open. In the kitchen his parents stand talking, his dad at the stove and his mum at the kettle.

“Morning.” George mumbles, hand coming up to cup his throbbing head. 

“Good Morning Georgie, I got you out some tablets.” His mum greets with a warm smile, nodding her head in the direction of the tablets that lay out on the counter. 

“Thank you.” He picks them up and takes them dry, much to his mother’s chagrin. 

“You want a bacon sandwich?” His dad offers, tongs in his right hand. 

“At 8 AM?” George furrows his eyebrows in question. 

“Never too early.” His dad shrugs, moving to butter slices of bread.

George huffs, sitting down on one of the bar stools at their kitchen island. “Go on then, but I’m going to sit here and pretend I don’t exist for a bit.” 

His mum chuckles and places a mug of steaming coffee in front of her son who lit up at its presence. It wasn’t often his parents made him breakfast in the mornings anymore, mainly for the fact that he missed the mornings most days, so he treasured the few times that they did. 

As he sipped the bitter liquid he began to feel the grogginess clouding his mind slip away. 

“What’s the plan for today?” His mum asks, joining him at the kitchen island. 

“I don’t know, I might try and talk to Clay but he won’t be up for a few hours.” Georgee shrugs, staring into his mug of coffee. His mum tuts at him. 

“You can’t rush him sweetie.” George knows it's not intended but her tone comes across as condescending. 

“I know, I’m just going to let him know that I miss him and that we can just put things aside and talk like friends until he’s figured stuff out.” George pouts, he does just miss the sound of Clay’s voice. Last night he found himself rewatching videos of his that Clay had been in, just to hear the man's voice again.

“That’s the mature thing.” His father agreed from the stove. 

“Exactly, we’re adults and we create content together, we can’t let it affect our work.” He hadn’t streamed in a few weeks now, his twitter indirects were full of people saying they missed him. 

“Sandwiches are ready.” His dad cheers, placing the plate down in front of him. With the arrival of food the topic is dropped and George is thankful for it, the talk of emotions was too heavy for that early in the morning, all he wanted to do was eat his food and go take a nap. 

\-------

George got his nap, in fact when he next woke up it was 4pm. His hangover had mostly passed and all that left was a slight lightheadedness when he stood. He turned on his PC and sat in his chair, one of his legs tucked up under his chin. George opens up his browser and goes onto youtube, planning on continuing his stream of Dream videos. 

George plays one of his own videos, where they try to complete the game with Clay as a horse. The sound of Clay’s voice immediately releases tension from George’s shoulder as he relaxes into the cushion of his chair. His phone vibrates on his desk and he peeks down, seeing Clay’s name lighting up the screen. 

He tries not to seem too eager but finds the message open mere seconds after the notification arrives. 

**Dream: I’m sorry for disappearing when I told you I wouldn’t**

George reads the message and smiles faintly, glad for Clay’s return.

**George: I know you need time, don’t worry about it**

**Dream: You have no right being this good to me Georgie**

**George: It’s just what I should do :)**

George sits for a moment waiting for a response, when he gets none he begins typing once again.

**George: If you’re not ready I want to push it aside, just go back to being friends for now?**

**Dream: I don’t think I can do that Georgie.**

**George: Why not?**

**Dream: I keep imagining meeting you. I’ve wished away entire lifetimes.**

George’s heart swoops in his chest.

**George: You have?**

**Dream: God George, it’s unfair we’re not somewhere misbehaving. Whenever we call I lose track of time and space.**

**Dream: I want to see you so badly George.**

**George: I want to see you too Clay. I’ve been going crazy because here isn’t where I want to be.**

**Dream: Where do you want to be?**

**George: Wherever you are. I can never get you out of my head.**

**Dream: It’s been the same for me Georgie.**

**Dream: God, you don’t know how much it drove me insane when you were with Wilbur. Hearing about him touching you, kissing you, having you.**

George’s cheeks flush as he reads the message, thinking about Clay being jealous over him being with someone else. 

**George: He never** **_had_ ** **me.**

**George: I think you forget I’ve wanted you for a long time Clay, before you were with Megan.**

**Dream: I was stupid for not noticing this before.**

**George: Noticing what?**

**Dream: That you should be mine.**

Clay seems to hesitate before his next message. 

**Dream: Are you mine, Georgie?**

**George: I’m not yours Clay.**

**George: Not right now.**

George bites his lip in thought, no matter how much he wanted Clay he didn’t want to be viewed as the type of guy who could be picked up and put down whenever. He respected himself more than that. 

**George: As much as I understand you need time, you can’t just pick me up and play with me when you want to.**

**Dream: I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel like that.**

**George: It’s fine.**

**Dream: It’s not. You deserve so much better.**

**Dream: I’m calling you.**

Before George had a chance to respond his phone buzzed to life, he hesitated before accepting the call. 

“Hey.” He mumbles, feeling shy in a way he never has when talking to Clay.

“George.” Clay sounds weak, his voice shaking with each syllable. “I hate that I made you feel like this. I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” George wonders if Clay was crying, if not he sounded close to it.

George furrows his eyebrows, “Are you okay?” He worries, eyes fixated on the white of his desk.

“No, I don’t think I am.” Clay gives a wet chuckle. “Everything has been so much and all I’ve been doing is hurting you.” 

“I’m used to it.” George shrugs, immediately cringing at his own words. 

“That makes me feel worse.” Clay whines, voice muffled. George imagines him burrowing his face into the fabric of his hoodie sleeve, his smiles at the image that passes by. 

“Clay, when you fall in love with someone you do it despite the inevitable ache. Falling in love with you was never my mistake, perhaps not being able to fall out of it was. I don’t regret it, I never could.” George confesses. He’s not one for wearing his heart on his sleeve but things had always been different when it came to Clay, his filter disappearing more and more with each day that passes. 

“You love me?” The happy lilt in his voice makes George’s heart warm.

George nods, despite Clay not being able to see him. “I have for a long time.” The affection in his own voice makes him feel a bit nauseous. 

“You’re so fucking amazing.” Clay gushes.

“For loving you?” George hums, smiling dumbly at his desk.

“No, for being you. I’m so lucky to have you in my life.” George lets his eyes fall shut, it’s almost like Clay is in the room with him. “I’m even luckier that you love me, I don’t deserve it.”

“You can make it up to me.” George giggles, tugging his bottom lip beneath his teeth.

“I can?” Clay had always had this golden retriever quality to him, it was almost annoying how endearing it was. 

“Buy me chocolate covered raisins as an apology and stream with me tonight.” George demanded, a grin breaking out on his face. 

“That’s all you want?” Clay scoffs in disbelief, a breath of a laugh in the receiver. 

“I’m easy to please.” George muses.

“Of course Georgie, I’ll get them now.” Clay sounds so happy and it does nothing to put out the flames of adoration that burned endlessly in the pit of George’s stomach. George wanted to see the stupid smile on his face. George shot up in his chair.

“Wait, I want another selfie too!” George yells out his demand. Clay wheezes out a laugh at the unexpected outburst. 

“I look like a mess right now.” Honey. God, George wants to drown in it. The sound of his voice floods through George and he positively melts. He would do anything to have him whisper in his ear. 

“I don’t care.” George blurts, ashamed just how desperate he is for another picture of Clay.

“You’re so stupid.” Clay says the words in a tone so sweet, it's a way he never talks to anyone else in. George likes hearing Clay in a way that’s just for him. 

“Send me a picture!” George exclaims, purls of laughter pouring past his lips. He feels like a teenager talking to his crush, the way his heart races only makes it worse.

“Alright! Jeez, so demanding.” Clay wheezes, his tone teasing. Seconds later the familiar red box stares back at him and George rushes to open it. 

Clay is sitting at his desk, hair neat and face flushed so prettily. The smile Clay is giving the camera is so bright, his teeth on show and eyes crinkled at the corners. 

“You’re so pretty.” George gushes so quietly he wonders briefly if Clay heard him. The way his breath hitches lets him know he has. George screenshots the photo, saving it into his folder of ever-growing photos. 

“You’re making a shrine I swear it.” Clay accuses. 

“Are you saying you don’t have any photos of me?” George hums into the phone, standing up from his chair and laying down on his bed. 

“I can’t say I don’t.” He confesses. 

“Bet you’ve got a whole folder.” George teases, knowing he’s being hypocritical.

“You’re making me sound like a creep.” Clay whines petulantly. 

George gasped. “Are you calling me a creep?” he giggles as Clay immediately backtracks on his word. 

“You’re adorable.” George whispers giddily. “I’m going to go get food, don’t forget our agreement Clay.”

“I won’t Georgie, I’ll talk to you in a bit.” Clay hangs up the phone and George is left in silence. His chest tightens with a giddiness that he’s missed in Clay’s absence, he only hopes that Clay keeps that feeling around for him. 


	10. Let me be your coffee pot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based off of I wanna be yours. 
> 
> \-------  
> George and Clay talk, George finally gets what he wants.

Clay loved to dance the line of platonic and romantic affections. It hadn’t taken him long to figure out that the words he spoke were what affected George the most. 

It was one evening once Sapnap had snuck off to bed, leaving just George and Clay chatting mindlessly into the nighttime air. 

“I can’t believe you lost manhunt!” George practically cackles, excitement at having beaten Clay spilling out of him from every orifice. 

“You got lucky.” Clay gives a low chuckle, honey coated throat making those sounds that thunder in George’s heart. George’s cheeks warm, his mind becoming a jumbled mess and he desperately tries to regroup his train of thought. 

“I-i N-no I!” He attempts to speak, having completely lost his point. 

Clay tuts, “You can’t even deny it Georgie.” The low humming with each syllable flows through each of George’s veins, sending shivers to the surface of his skin that bristle the hairs, sending them to stand on their very ends. George lets out a shaky sigh, his eyes coming to a close as he lets Clay’s voice fill his ears. “Are you alright there?” Clay teases. 

“Mhm, fine.” George breathes out despite the incessant racing of his heart and rushing of his blood to his cheeks. 

“Do you like it when I talk, baby?” Clay lowers his voice until it’s low and gravelly. George’s brain short circuits and he’s only able to make a series of jumbled sounds not even close to resembling words. “That’s what it is, isn’t it?” Clay hums, George can just picture the smirk on his face. A noise akin to a whine passes through George’s lips and he immediately clamps his mouth shut in shame. 

“You make the prettiest noises.” Clay gushes through the receiver, the honey strikes George through to his core and his back arches forward off of his chair. “They’re just for me, aren’t they?” George hates how with just a few words he melts into Clay’s words, he only wishes he can be putty under his fingers. 

“I’m hanging up now!” George squeaks, ripping off his headphones and ending their call. His hands run across the burning skin of his face, his cool fingertips only serving to make his face feel hotter. It’s only seconds later that George’s phone vibrates on his desk. He’s unsurprised to see Clay’s name on the screen and even less surprised by the message.

**Dream: I didn’t push you too far did I?**

George smiles at Clay’s concern, the butterflies George had come to associate with Clay fluttering around in his chest.

**Georgie: No I’m just embarrassed.**

**Dream: I don’t mean to embarrass you. I just like hearing you like that.**

**Georgie: I like hearing you too.**

**Dream: So I was right?**

**Georgie: You know you were. I could listen to you talk for hours.**

**Dream: I’d do anything you wanted to do Georgie.**

George giggles, rolling his eyes and standing from his desk. Falling back against the sheets with the phone clutched between his fingertips, their text thread pulled open. Clay’s last message stands out amongst the rest, the very words leaving the heckles on the back of his neck raised. 

**Dream: You call the shots babe, I just wanna be yours.**

George’s stomach twists up in knots, heart fluttering so embarrassingly at the implication. He thumbs over the call button, hesitating before his thumb grazes the screen, calling Clay. 

“George?” Clay questions as soon as the call connects. George is ashamed by how the sound of Clay’s voice alone sets his cheeks ablaze. 

“The secrets I have held in my heart are harder to hide than I thought.” George mused in lieu of a greeting, more to himself than Clay. 

“What do you mean?” The confused lilt to Clay’s voice caused the elder to envision the blonde with his head tilted to the side, much like a puppy. 

“I want to be yours too Clay.” It felt relieving to finally speak the words that burdened his mind each waking moment. “I just want to be yours.” 

“If we do this you know I’m never letting you go, right?” Clay’s tone is light but George knows he’s serious.

“That’s what I’m hoping for.” George chuckles, bringing a hoodie covered hand to his face, smiling into the fabric.

“I need to see you.” Clay mutters almost breathlessly into the phone.

“We can video call if you want.” George moves to sit up and ready himself for the camera but is stopped by Clay speaking.

“No, no. I want you here. I want to touch you, hold you, kiss you. I need you to be tangible under my fingers.” George shivers at Clay’s words, fleeting images of Clay’s hands and lips passing through his mind. He doesn’t think he’s ever wanted something more.

“I want that too.” George admits, smiling up at his ceiling.    
“Please let me buy you a ticket.” Clay pleads, just like he’s done multiple times in the past. 

“I can buy my own.” George scoffs, feeling grateful that Clay wanted to do that for him but he, himself, was very capable of paying for his own ticket. 

“Too bad, I’m already doing it.” George hears the clattering of a keyboard and chuckles at Clay’s insistence.

“Are you that desperate to see me?” George teases but can’t deny he’s desperate to see the man himself.

Clay scoffs, “That’s like asking me if I breathe every day.” George’s heart stutters. 

“You’re an idiot.” George mumbles fondly. 

“I’m your idiot.” Clay’s voice is sweet in his ear and George almost wants to fall asleep to it.

“ _ My  _ idiot.” He giggles, loving the confirmation that Clay actually is his. 

“I like the way that sounds.” Clay sighs in what almost sounds like relief. 

“I do too.” George feels too giddy to think of anything intelligent to say, his mind buzzing alive with just  _ Clay, Clay, Clay.  _

“You should get some sleep, I’ll send you the tickets once I’ve bought them for you.” It’s only then he’s reminded of the time, it’s gone half 3 in the morning and George’s body is slowly sinking further into his sheets. 

“You’re too nice.” George hums, rolling onto his side with his head nuzzling into his pillow. 

“You deserve it, I wasn't lying when I said I’d do anything for you.” Clay whispers like it’s a prayer and George begins to believe that there is a God. 

“I’d do the same.” George all but coos, wanting desperately to run his fingers through Clay’s hair.

“Is it bad if I tell you I love you?” Clay chuckles and George can picture the golden retriever expression that Clay must be wearing right now. 

“You’ve been doing that for years.” And it’s true, Clay had been telling George he loved him since only a year after they met. Clay’s refusal to shy away from his own affections was part of the reason that George fell in love with him in the first place. 

“It’s different now.” George can practically hear the affection oozing from Clay.

“I know, I don’t cherish the words any less.” George confesses quietly, letting his eyes close and pulling his covers over himself. 

“Sap.” Clay teases, voice smooth as honey. 

“Shut up.” George whines, free hand to his cheek. 

“I love you.” The words burn like fire and cool like the sea on a summer day. 

“You know I feel the same.” George wishes he could tell Clay those three words, he’s got close to it before. There is something that terrifies George about saying them, he’s afraid of being mocked for how he feels even if Clay says the words so easily.

“I know, I don’t need to hear the words.” George feels relief flood through him at Clay’s understanding, he had always understood him more than everyone else. 

“Goodnight Clay.” He smiles.

“Goodnight Baby.” Clay hums before the call comes to an end. George giggles to himself and clutches his phone to his chest. He doesn’t think he’s ever been in love like this before. God, he’s so excited to see Clay in person, he can only hope that he gets to soon. 


End file.
